Good Stewardship (Asgard Shorts series 8)
by LadyLorena
Summary: Grace is left in charge of Asgard when the king and his warriors go to war. Odin is not ready for the changes she insists on making. Part of the Asgard Shorts series of one shots following Best of Both Worlds. (that ended up longer than a one-shot).
1. Chapter 1

Grace Stark knew the news was going to be bad from the way the Council of the Court was fidgeting when she sat down at an emergency meeting called by her least favourite Warrior Three, Fandral. She had asked him why he called the meeting and he simply told her that she would have to attend to find out. Irritated by his assumption that she would attend, she had considered skipping, but when Loki had asked her to join him at the meeting, she had obliged.

She was still irritated when she settled into her seat with her cup of tea. She asked Loki what they were doing here, but Thor quickly called the meeting to order and he had no time to answer.

Thor looked grim, "I have ill news from Vanaheim. The rebellion has gained momentum and it hundreds of villages have been burned to the ground. Our aid has not quelled the violence and in many places arrival of food and shelter has been met with more bloodshed. People are starving. Freyja cannot grant asylum to all who have sought it in her walled city- there simply is not space. Encampments have been set up outside the walls, but the rebels incite violence there and have started stealing whatever they can from the refugees. Freyja fears for her people and has asked for our assistance."

Fandral continued, "Our men on the ground in Vanaheim have reported that the rebels began as a secessionist group wanting Vanaheim to no longer be under Asgard's rule. When our ambassadors could not address their concerns about Asgard's leadership quickly enough, they began to threaten action against any village that wished to remain under Asgard's rule. The question had been before the people in Vanaheim's last elections for regional ambassadors to Freyja's council and the outcome was clear- most of Vanaheim is, at the least, comfortable with Asgard's leadership. The rebels were true to their word and began burning villages, blaming Asgard for not protecting them and using their own violence as a recruiting tool. I admit, our record in addressing Vanaheim's needs has not been spotless, but we have been doing much better the past few centuries and Freyja reports her realm to be thriving. Our men on the ground can attest to this, as regional poverty has fallen and it appears that the infrastructure is supporting the populace very well. Unfortunately, what began as a small group of rebellious citizens has swelled into a small, well-armed militia that seeks chaos and is aided by mercenaries from multiple realms- they are highly destructive, incredibly cruel, and have executed numerous village leaders, city officials, and at least two regional ambassadors. We have met with regional leadership in Vanaheim and they have unanimously asked that we send our army to assist them. Ladies, gentlemen...Asgard has been asked to go to war."

The room was silent as everyone absorbed the situation at hand.

Sif was the first to speak, "The Council must make a recommendation to either support Vanaheim or leave her to her own defenses. Is there anyone who would like to discuss this further, or should we vote?" When no one spoke, she turned to her right and asked yes or no. Only Grace abstained from voting. Only two of the council members voted against assisting Vanaheim.

When the vote reached Loki, he spoke solomnly, "So be it- Asgard shall go to war."

Thor sighed, "Indeed, we shall. I had hoped that our diplomatic methods would have stopped this madness before we reached this point, but it is not so. Loki, I ask that you fight beside me as my general. You have a mind for strategy that could help us end this far sooner and I will need your thinking close at hand. Will you?"

"I shall do as you wish, Brother, though not without reservations."

"Understood. Given that my queen has insisted on fighting beside me, do not think I ask this lightly. Three members of the royal family on the battlefield is not the wisest decision and if I thought we were likely to lose, I would not ask this of you. That does, however, leave the matter of who will be Steward to the throne in our abscence." He paused and it was clear that there were others holding their breath for this news as well, "Grace. Will you sit as Steward?"

Her voice was shaking as she answered, "I hope you know I have no fucking clue what I am doing, but yes. I will."

"I have every confidence in you, Sister. I will ask Father to advise you in the day to day workings of being king. The Council will now adjourn- I must ready the army and plan for this war."

Thor left quickly with Fandral close beside. Sif slipped over to speak to Loki and made it clear that he was to join them post-haste.

She placed a hand on Grace's shoulder before leaving, "Thank you. I have every confidence in your ability to take on the throne."

Grace nodded, still somewhat stunned by what she had just accepted, "Loki...do you have to go right away?"

The room was quickly emptying and Loki caught Sif's eye as she left to find Thor, "Yes, I do. We will talk more this evening over supper- just you and I. Forgive me, but I must go." He kissed her cheek and left her in the now-empty room.

She dropped her head onto her crossed arms, her nose touching the table as she whispered, "Fuck fuck fuck" to herself. She was completely overwhelmed by the idea of taking on the throne. There was nothing about Thor's decision that made sense to her. She wasn't even officially a member of the royal family, having never married Loki- they were best friends, partners in everything, and lived together like they were, but in the eyes of Asgard, they simply were not and she was not a royal. Even though Thor treated her as such, even though he always called her his sister and gave her the ceremonial duties accorded to a crown prince's wife, she still heard the comments from the guards and from some of the members of the court. Even after over a milennia living beside Loki, she was still just that woman from Midgard that Loki brought back from the dead and somehow granted long life.

She did not hear the footsteps that must have accompanied the person who laid a hand on her shoulder as she was lost in thoughts, so much that she jumped when she felt that touch and heard the steady voice that followed, "I have been told that my son has granted you a great duty."

"Odin, you scared the shit out of me!"

"For both our sakes, I hope you mean that metaphorically." He was smiling, amused, as he sat down beside her. While he had, at first, been disarmed by her casual language, he had grown to see it as a part of her over the past thousand years and no longer believed, as he had the first time he had heard her curse in general conversation, that she had no respect for him because of it. She simply was Grace Stark, and she was not going to change her language just because he was Odin.

"Yeah. Metaphorically. But it could have been literal, so don't be so damn sneaky- give a girl some footsteps of forewarning or something!"

"I shall endeavour to be more noisy in the future. Especially as Loki asked me in passing to be your shadow in the coming days."

"Yeah. Grace Stark, Steward to the throne of Asgard. How bad am I going to screw this up? Better yet, why didn't Thor just ask you? It's not like you haven't done this before."

"I cannot take the throne- it would undermine all Thor has done to set his reign apart from mine and would drive a wedge between those who embrace his new ways and those who wish I was still king. As it stands, they are peaceful knowing that I will not accept even a stewardship. Were I to do such a thing, it could lead to rebellion."

"That would suck."

"Yes, it would. And to answer your other question, you do not have to worry about your performance as Steward. You are one of us, and this will help to cement your role as a royal in the hearts and minds of Asgard. You will not be alone, and you do have the Council to consult with as well."

"I wish I had your confidence. All I can think about is that I'm going to be doing something huge with no idea how while my best friend tries not to get himself killed. As if that wasn't stressful enough."

Odin nodded, "And in that you will not be alone, either- I assure you, I will be most concerned about my sons both being at war. As will many of our people. We are not so different than those we lead." He rose, "You had best rest. I have no doubt Loki will need you greatly when he retires this evening. He is far more sensitive than I had ever thought a son of mine would be."

Once out of earshot, Grace replied, "And how am I ever going to make it if I lose him?"

Hours later, Grace heard the door to their chambers click shut as Loki entered unusually quietly. She was sitting in the window with a book and he approached cautiously, as though he was afraid that anything he said would be upsetting. He distracted himself, diverting to set the table and hoping that she would speak first.

"So...how'd the war planning go? Any chance of getting there, getting everybody drunk and singing some Beatles, and coming home unscathed?"

Loki almost smiled, "No, my love, I am afraid not. The situation is far too dire for even Jude to solve."

"Damn. Are we going to be OK?"

The sadness in her voice was almost tangible and Loki felt his heart sink, "I do not know, Gracie. I hope so. I hope we come home safely, but with war, nothing is certain."

She threw her book hard at the wall, "Fucking hell!" She tucked her knees to her chest and hugged them tight. Loki went to her and gently brushed his fingers through her fire-engine red hair, "Don't touch me, I'm grumpy."

He did not step back, "You are a resiliant woman and you will survive even if I do not. You can handle far more dire circumstances than you like to admit. Your childhood alone is proof of that."

"Just because I was repeatedly pimped out by my aunt doesn't mean I can handle my best friend dying in war."

"You survived Izzy's death, you survived the loss of your brother...you are stronger than you know. And it is not as though I plan on doing much dying. I have been to battle before and survived. I have survived Thanos. I will come home."

"Yeah, but...what if you don't?" She propped her chin on her knees and looked up at him with damp eyes.

He could not answer, so instead wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his cheek close to hers. They sat in silence, unmoving, until they heard a knock on the door as a servant brought their supper.

For the next few days, Grace refused to talk about the war. She shadowed Thor on is daily duties as king and she tried her best to understand just what it was she would be expected to do as the Steward, but she disappeared when it came time to talk about strategies for battle or to inspect the army. She detached herself from the entire process until she was forced to deal with it.

With only a few days before the army was to depart for Vanaheim, Odin led them through how the procession that would send off the soldiers would work. There would be garlands of flowers laid at their feet, the brothers in their royal splendor leading the men, Sif and the Warriors Three behind the king and prince, and a chariot for the home front at the end of the line where Grace would stand as Steward, but also as a symbol for all the families left behind. It was a role that would have been filled by Frigga, had she been living.

It was during this conversation that Grace realised just what big shoes she had to fill and she felt a bit like panicking. Loki took her hand and the conversation paused while Grace tried to centre herself. When she seemed a bit more calm, Odin continued, outlining where and when the traditional speeches would take place and what would happen after.

Grace left with a stack of papers and no idea what she was doing acting the part of the Steward. She went back to her closet and stared at it, trying to figure out just what would be appropriate to wear to such an ostentatious event and decided that nothing she owned was elegant enough. Loki, however, knew just what to do and returned to their chambers with a small trunk.

"This should help you. Father sent a few of Mother's things."

"This is all cementing my belief that I am so out of my league that it isn't even funny. This is crazy. How am I supposed to do all this? They're going to be comparing me to your mom both in what I do and what I wear."

"Mother had her own quiet elegance, it is true, but I assure you, there will be no comparison to what you do with these garments. I have every bit of faith that you will do things in your own way."

"How am I going to keep a kingdom going? I kill houseplants."

"Ah, but you do not need to remember to water a kingdom. Asgard will do quite well if you simply ignore it and let daily life continue as it always has. In the time we are away, I doubt there is much that could go awry."

"Now that you say that, something super crazy is going to happen and you know it."

"Well at least it is something you can anticipate as certain, now that it has been said. Please, though- do look through this trunk. The parade to war is something we all can, at the least, anticipate going the same way it has gone for centuries."

"Just wait, my horse will trip."

"It would not be the first time."


	2. Chapter 2

The day before the parade, Grace lovingly cleaned Loki's armor, oiling the leather, polishing the metal until it gleamed, and laying everything out for the next day. When he returned after a long day of planning and inspections, he found Grace asleep, her gown for the next day on a dress form beside his garments so carefully prepared. He curled up next to her and cuddled her close. They had been beside one another every day and every night for over a thousand years and he was not at all looking forward to remembering what it was like to sleep alone.

The morning came far too early and they woke together. Loki arranged the low-drape of the back of Grace's pearlescent white dress, his fingers tracing over the branches of her Yggdrasil tattoo before placing a gold collar of opals around her neck.

She stepped back and turned to face him, "So...how do I look? Because I feel like I woke up in the wrong skin this morning and I am so not used to being this super fancy."

"Stunning, Gracie. And every inch the queen."

"Yeah, given your history, pretty sure saying that is some kind of treason."

"Thor will forgive me when he sees you himself."

"I wish I was feeling up to having theme music and making an entrance, but I'm not. Let's get this over with so you can come home faster."

"Indeed. I will meet you after we inspect the men."

She knew he was downplaying his own emotions in order to try to help her and it irritated her, so she kissed him, happy to feel him melt against her, achingly sad as she thought that this might be a last kiss.

"Because I can't do that after you inspect your soldiers..."

"I will see you after, Gracie. And if you wish to steal a kiss, I will not care if we are in the midst of every battle-hardened man in the realm. They all leave lovers behind as well." He left. Grace did not want to be alone with her thoughts- she also did not want to sit down on anything that might have any trace of dust on it and she certainly wasn't going to make herself a cup of tea while wearing white. Instead, she went to seek out Odin, who would be staying out of the parade, his life so much more monastic than it had been the last time a full contingent of soldiers was sent out from Asgard. She needed company, even if that company would be most likely only be someone to sit and read near. At least she could get lost in a book while wearing a white dress without staining it.

When it came time for the parade, Grace found herself in the armory surrounded by soldiers all trying to get their horses ready, Thor briskly calling orders to get everyone ready, Loki putting the final preparations on the chariot that would carry Grace at the end of the procession. He gave final instructions to the chariot driver and then stepped around to offer Grace a hand into the chariot. She took his hand, but instead placed his arms around her waist and reached up to touch his cheek. She kissed the corner of his mouth and whispered a goodbye. He kissed her forehead and let his lips linger, trying not to believe that this could truly be the end. He helped her into the chariot and she positioned herself on the high bench, draping a veil over her entire body, a symbol of mourning. A servant asked Loki if he wanted to hand Grace the long bouquet of flowers she would carry in the procession and leave at the end of the bridge as they left and he nodded, handing them carefully to her through the long slits in the sides of the veil. She gave him a sad smile. Thor called for everyone to get in place. In minutes, they would begin their procession. Loki reached for her hand and gave it one last squeeze before abruptly turning away and taking his place beside Thor.

The huge chamber doors opened to the cheering crowds beyond, the sunlight streaming into the room, glittering off the bright steel and gold worn by every soldier. All Grace could think of was just how wrong it all felt- the excitement for war, the screams of happiness as they passed by. The horses trod on blankets of flowers laid before them; the air was filled with rose petals continually tossed by the assembled throng. Grace focussed ahead, her eyes fixed on the two standards flying at the head of the parade, one of emerald, one of crimson, borne by two young boys who were not yet old enough to fight, but who would ride to battle anyway, sons of soldiers.

In all the celebration, it was easy to miss what was happening behind the procession, and Grace would have as well had one voice singing above the others not caught her ear. She turned to see what was happening. Women draped in veils like hers were following the parade, the crowd dispersing instead of watching them pass. Some carried small objects, some carried signs listing names. Others were holding hands. All were singing, but she could not make out the words over the frenzy around them. When they reached the bridge and Thor turned to give a speech, she could briefy hear them and realised their song was one of mourning. He raised a hand and even they fell silent.

"My fellow citizens of Asgard. We leave this realm strong in number and in heart and we will return the same. Be waiting at the door, for we will return in but the space of a heartbeat." It was not the speech Thor had wanted to make, but the comforts of tradition had kept him from saying what he really felt. With a rousing cry from the men, the soldiers were off, the Bifrost opened to Vanaheim.

Only Grace was left. She rose with her bouquet and made the short speech Odin had given her- an ode to the glorious soldiers and to the brave families at home. The words tasted bitter on her lips. She walked to the head of the bridge and laid the flowers a few steps in, but instead of just walking away, she knealt and sat in silence, her head bowed.

When she stood, she turned to face the veiled women and sang the only thing that had been playing in her head all morning, "_Keep the home fires burning, while your hearts are yearning. Though your lads are far away, they dream of home. There's a silver lining through the dark clouds shining. Turn the dark cloud inside out till the boys come home._"

It was not a song anyone else in Asgard was even remotely likely to know, or one, even, that many in Midgard had known when she was living in Stark tower. She had learned it from Steve- Captain America, who had never lost his sense of place from the Second World War. The songs he had heard sung by his own parents in his youth, songs from the Great War, were special to him in a way that Grace had never quite understood, even as Tony had gone off time and time again to fight with the Avengers. War was different when there were so few other soldiers, no one else was waiting at home with you, and no one else really knew the war was being fought in the first place. But a few of the songs had stuck with her, sometimes because they were beautiful, sometimes because they included a line about killing the bugler so one could stay in bed and made her giggle.

After singing, Grace returned to the chariot and rode back to the palace without looking at her surroundings. Her mind was on the monumental task ahead- running a kingdom while trying to keep the worry from consuming her.

When she entered the palace, Odin was waiting for her, "Word travels more quickly than you, Grace. You sang to the women?"

"Yeah. Was I not supposed to?"

"Some say you broke propriety, but as they are so often forgotten, the warriors glorified and their families ignored, it was a nice touch. They will certainly not forget it. What did you sing?"

"A song from the First World War. I think it was written in 1916- a full century before I even met Loki. Steve used to play this record album of old war time songs and I learned it from there- I think I might have the album. The chorus of it just seemed to fit."

"One of the reporters who heard you noted the lyrics. He wishes to publish them."

"I don't think the copyright on them would prevent that- it's been a milennium. Nobody in Midgard's going to even remember it."

"Good. If you write down what you sang, I will contact him. As Steward, you have more important tasks than publicity, though I will make you aware of anything you ought to approve. Come- we ought to review the correspondence from the day. It will be on Thor's desk."

When they arrived in the king's office, the heap of letters and paperwork on the desk was overwhelming; Grace poked at it, "Where do I even begin?"

"By organising this disaster. One of my sons knows how to keep an office. The other does not. Unfortunately for us, the one who does not is the one who is king."

She picked up a piece of paper covered in doodles of swords and Mjolner, "Please tell me I can throw things away."

"Of course. His mother and I used to do this often- we cleaned his room when he was gone and, to my knowledge, he never missed the things we took out in rubbish bins."

"I don't feel so bad now."

"Good. Then let us begin the important work of figuring out just what you need to do to run this realm."

"By cleaning Thor's desk."

"Aye, yes. By cleaning Thor's desk."


	3. Chapter 3

A few days after the soldiers left, Grace received the first news from the front, including a casualty list. She read it over and over again, wondering just what to do with the news. Odin told her that it was not common for these reports to be disseminated to the people of Asgard- they were usually just kept by the throne and filed for later use. She asked how families were notified that their loved ones would not be coming home and he said that they usually simply sent a letter. Grace decided to make a change. She dressed in a trim black suit and contacted the royal videographer. The concept of televised broadcasts had only recently taken root in Asgard and news from the throne played on a few public television screens placed in a couple of shop windows in the squares. Receiving these announcements was very much a community event, word of their broadcast still largely communicated by posted announcements and word-of-mouth.

On camera, she told the people of Asgard what from the report she thought they needed to hear, "My fellow citizens of Asgard. Only a few days ago we sent our soldiers into war in Vanaheim. I have received news of that battle. The fighting is fierce and the forces our people are fighting against have been cunning and are well organised. They are not making the battle easy. We have also, unfortunately, sustained casualties. We will not simply be sending these families a letter in the post. Those who have lost will be notified in person by the palace. I will not release the names of the deceased until those families can be told face to face that their soldier will not be coming home. This seems far more personal- and you are not alone. I am reading these reports for the names of my family members, too. I will update you all as news arrives. A nation at war must pull together."

The message was simple, but she felt it at least told the people that the palace was not ignoring their worries. Her next task was to choose who would be taking the bad news to the families who lost soldiers and what they would say. She sent for the few captains who had stayed behind to keep the guard organised and interviewed each of them, but none seemed compassionate enough to do the job well. After talking to Odin, she summoned a few older men who had fought beside him and decided on a dozen old soldiers who would go in pairs to deliver the news. She gave each group part of the list of names and where they could find the families, waiting for them to report back how the interractions were received.

At the end of the day, the men returned to her and informed her that they felt as though they had done something useful and honourable in their work. They asked to add more of their fellow old soldiers to their team. Grace charged them with organising themselves and set a time they would meet each day to receive the list as well as time at the end of the day when they could talk about what they had done and how they ought do things differently. She felt as though she had accomplished something huge, even with this simple act of kindness to the bereaved families, a kindness she would never receive if the names of any of her family members were to appear on the list.

Later in the first week after the deployment of Asgard's soldiers, Odin brought

Grace a problem.

"We are entering the winter months- the harvest is in, and this year's crop was not what it ought to have been. Conditions were poor, the rain too little. Our stores will not sustain us as they usually do and our grains are depleting more quickly as we turn them to rations for the army. We face mass shortages at the coming of spring if the war lasts more than a few weeks and we will see starvation in the people and weakness in our army when we have no more salted meats."

Grace had no idea what to do; she set down her pen and rested her elbows on Thor's desk, propping her chin on her hands, "Advise me- I have absolutely no information on farming in Asgard. I'm assuming this means our winter production is pretty much nil?"

"Production in winter comes to a close. You know our weather is not suited to growing most plants, even though you have said they are mild."

"Wait, we don't have indoor grow systems? No greenhouses? No hydroponic systems? Nothing going on with fish?"

Odin looked a bit surprised, "You had these technologies in Midgard?"

"Way back in the day, yeah- you don't here? I have no idea what they have these days- probably Soylent Green- but sure, we grew in winter. We used electric lights in some systems, but the simplest were cold frames to extend growing greens into the winter. Glass traps heat, so greenhouses in a climate like this could really stretch us out- no grains or anything, but we could be growing the cool weather plants like peas and spinach and stuff. Maybe even some of the root veggies. Things we could use to stretch how far our grain goes. And if we heated the greenhouses, we could grow whatever we wanted year round."

"Asgard has always simply depended on the seasons and, for the most part, they have been reliable. We have never built these glass houses or tried to extend the growing season into the winter. We may have trouble convincing the people that this is a good idea, especially as building such things would mean displacing some of them from their homes."

"Well we'll just have to talk to them and compensate them fairly for their houses or offer to help move their homes."

"The throne does not need to pay to use land it already owns."

Grace sighed, "So how are they supposed to move somewhere else if they don't have money from the sale to do it with? I'm guessing we'll be building these things on the neighbourhoods with the lowest property value, so it isn't like they are rolling in the dough to begin with. If we take their homes so we an build greenhouses, we are going to make sure we take care of the people we displace. None of this crazy stuff where we pay them pennies, but not enough for them to actually get another place. That's not cool."

"You bring about very large changes, Grace. The people will likey resist and may even revolt."

She shook her head, "No. They aren't going to revolt. I will tell them tomorrow morning about what we are going to have to do and why. Then we'll take care of each family we displace in the way that is best for them. And we won't act like they're just shit on our shoes to be scraped off and discarded in disgust, either. We're going to do this right."

"And where will you get workers for these facilities? The able-bodied men are all at war."

"You don't have able bodied women in this realm? Come on Odin, women can do whatever the men do. We'll hire whoever will do the work. If Sif and I haven't proven this to you by now, I don't know what will. Back well before my time, there was this war we called World War Two- the men were mostly off on the front, so the women took up their jobs at home making all the machinery for war- guns, tanks, jeeps, anything they needed. Women packed bombs, made trucks, grew food, and kept the home front running. The city I grew up in was one of the ones producing so much for the war effort it was called an 'Arsenal of Democracy'. Women kicked ass and took names. And no, they hadn't really been able to before that. I expect no less of the women of Asgard."

Odin still looked skeptical, "Midgard is not, or was not, as Asgard. Things change much more slowly here."

Grace decided the most blunt answer was the best answer she could give to Odin's belief, "They'll work or they'll starve. Simple as that. Change isn't an option in circumstances like these. No slave labour, though, so don't go thinking we'll be forcing that. Work and earn your keep, or have nothing to buy the food with. Tomorrow, I'll address the nation. First, though, get our master gardener in here. He's getting one hell of a promotion."

He did not protest and left to summon the gardener. Grace was, after all, in charge of the kingdom by appointment of the king. There was nothing he could do but obey and let her see if her experiment would work or fail.

While she waited for the gardener, she tried to remember the details of the hydroponic systems she had seen when travelling during her life in Midgard. While Tony had at first thought her insistence on visiting greenhouses, vertical production facilities, and rooftop gardens when they travelled had been a little crazy, he had quickly caught her enthusiasm and together they had brainstormed how arc reactor technology could be used in these applications to create more efficient and environmentally friendly food systems. Only some of his sketches had made it to Asgard- many more had been left in the labs at Stark Tower and, as the years had gone by, they had been destroyed by subsequent researchers who thought they were unrealistic or out dated. Grace had only managed to retrieve a few of them when visiting Steve after her move to Asgard. Of course, not having an arc reactor in Asgard meant they would have been largely useless anyway, but she still wished she had them to reference, especially those of the vertical production. She cleared Thor's desk and sent one of the servants to get the folios of Tony's schematics from the library that contained the few greenhouse drawings that survived.

When the master gardener arrived, Grace was bent over her own large sheets of drafting paper, the folio open on a side table, a variety of pencils scattered over the desk, her glasses pushed up on top of her head as she concentrated on the scale ruler and precicely placed a fine line.

"You wanted to see me, ma'am?"

"Hey, Lars. I've got a big project I need you to head up. And by big, I mean saving the kingdom from starving kind of big."

"The harvest was poor this year, that I know. But how can we change that? There is no magic in the realms to create food from nothing."

"I still can't believe that greenhouses and cold frames aren't a thing here. Odin tells me you folks don't do hothouse food production."

"Some people do have little cold frames for their homes, but the years have been plentiful for so long and our winters short and mild. We have not had to worry about such things. I am an old man, though, and I do remember lean years as a child when my family built a small room of glass on our house to grow food through the winter."

"So have you ever built really big greenhouses here?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"So do you want to head up the project to put up a couple of them real fast so we can get growing on a large scale so we'll make it through the winter?"

His eyes lit up at the offer, "Miss, if you want to take this project on, I would be more than happy to be at the head of it."

"Sweetness. Come over here, then- let's do some drafting."

They worked late into the night and the next day, Grace once again dressed in her suit and presented the idea to the realm, "My fellow citizens of Asgard. We are faced with a conundrum. The harvest this year was terrible. Frankly speaking, with an army to feed, we're not going to make it through the winter if we don't do something big and new to make up for the failure of this year's crop. So I have an idea and it's going to take all of us working together if it is going to work. We're going to build greenhouses and vertical gardens. Here are some renderings we came up with last night of what these are going to look like. It's rough, but it gives you an idea of what we are talking about and the scale of these things. We need to build them in the city so the food is close to the people who need it and to those people who will be working in them. And that means we're likely going to need to displace some people from their homes. We'll pay you enough to get a new house if you are one of the people displaced, and not just a hush money sum that won't get you a new place to stay. I want to do this right. Of course, we're going to need to hire people to build these fast and we're going to need to hire people to work in them- and I know that the people who usually do this kind of work are off fighting a war right now. So everybody else, it's your turn to shine and to show off what Asgard is made of. When I talked to the Council of the Court this morning, they told me this idea was crazy, in part because the women of Asgard could not or would not forge steel, make glass, and work the dirt. So, ladies, how do you feel about proving them wrong? We all work, or we're going to be mighty skinny come the first fruits next year. Help a sister out. We could do it back before my day in Midgard during our World Wars- I think you are plenty capable here, too. So stay tuned for updates on this project; we'll be moving mighty fast. And until we meet again, keep the home fires burning."

That evening, reports began reaching the palace of women taking up the forges their husbands had left behind to ready them for the demands of the building project. One woman brought a cart of thick glass to the palace and offered it as proof that she could do better work than her husband. Offers of labour were close behind and Grace sat smiling at the foot of the dias as women came to ask for work. Some came from the outer lands and insisted on staying in the city until they could earn their wage, their packs filled with the basic things they would need to pitch a tent until that time came.

Odin was a little surprised but also skeptical, insisting later when they took supper together that the women would not follow through with their offers. The location scouts interrupted the meal and presented a few places where the greenhouses could be located as well as areas of the city that could accommodate the displaced residents. As Grace suspected, the places they chose were the poorest areas of the city, some of them experiencing high levels of blight and destabilisation. Many of the places with empty homes were not those that were of equal value. Odin cringed a little when she said that she would pay those displaced what it would cost them to get another house, not what the sale of their house would earn them. After selecting spots for two of the greenhouses, she sent the scouts to find decrepit warehouses to use as processing facilities and to use as fish farms above those she was planning on breeding for aquaponics systems in the greenhouses. She assigned someone to go door to door with the offer price for each house and to get names from each resident in addition to providing them with the location of a house for sale. Her plan was to offer these residents work on the construction projects and in the greenhouses.

After the others left, Odin asked, "And what do you intend to do with these workers once the lean season passes? We cannot displace our farmers."

"We'll switch to exotics in the summer- things we can't get here or that nobody can get anywhere. Did you know that cocoa is nearly extinct? So are bananas and coffee. Most of Earth's tropical fruits, like mango, guava, papaya, pineapple, lemons, and oranges are, too. So we can get the seed and cultivate them here for the long term and export them back to Midgard and elsewhere in the realms- and these luxury foods would be more affordable here because we would be growing them right here. You know how much Thor loves coffee- imagine one entire greenhouse for cocoa and coffee. It would still be far below what Midgard used to produce, but we could really do some amazing things to bring back near-extinct plants that no longer have habitat anywhere else. Our summers would make the environment in the greenhouses perfect for tropicals."

"I was unaware you had thought so far through this project."

"I've been dreaming of coffee and chocolate for years. No way I'm going to pass that up."

"Do you honestly believe you will be able to keep their attention for that long? You are speaking of trees and shrubs, not simple annual vegetation."

"Did you hear the women today? The women who were pretty much desperate for work? I think we can. I think the women are already doing work, but just not getting recognition for it- the glassmaker was saying that she fills orders for fine cut glass and anything tinted because her glass is so smooth and her husband passes the work off as his own. She also makes fine dishes and I'd bet the crystal goblets we ordered from him last year were her work, given how intricate the cutwork was on them. We're going to see women like her coming out of the woodwork."

"And I suppose that includes farm wives? And what will we do when the men return and they are needed back home?"

"If they want to keep working, they will have to figure that out with their husbands. If they don't, that's fine, too- but women shouldn't be having to defer their dreams just for their men. We can do the work, too. Thor believed so- he left me in charge of this place...and I just have to make it work. If a woman can be Steward, a woman can build shit, too. Ladies be tough."

Odin thought better of arguing with her. She reminded him of Frigga and he knew that strong willed women such as his dearly departed wife were not ones to argue with- or, rather, they were not ones to _win_ an argument with. He was beginning to see what his youngest son found so fascinating about Grace- she was a challenge to keep up with, a constantly changing rainbow of ideas and energy and god help anyone who got between her and her destination...exactly like Frigga.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been about a month since Grace had announced the City Greenhouse project and the glassmakers had been working nonstop to produce the shining panels that were just being hung from the elegant steel skeletons so remniscent of the conservatories in her books on Victorian England. There was a cathedral quality to them and as the panels were lifted to the sky, all observing (and some of those operating the cranes lifting them) held their breath and called on all the superstitions they knew to make sure none of them broke while being placed or fell and shattered, the shards shredding everyone on the ground. Fortunately, no such accident happened.

The glass, however, was not to remain unscathed.

Grace was doing paperwork when a messenger hurried in, out of breath, "My lord...er, sorry. My _lady_. You are needed at the throne. Treason."

She dropped her pen and flipped her glasses down from her head, "What? Talk as we walk."

"A few of the guards caught a group of young men throwing rocks at the Greenhouse and taking a battering ram to the steel frames. They had shattered at least five of the large panes and a dozen or so of the smaller ones. Others that had not yet been installed were smashed on the ground. The damage is extensive."

"So I get that it's bad, but treason? Odin's going to laugh if you tell him I asked that."

"More likely roll his eyes and sigh, if you do not mind me saying so. But I digress. Because it is wartime and the food we seek to grow would help feed the army. The same law would apply to someone destroying a forge making weaponry, or destroying the carts built for the supply runs, or even damaging the goods of a butcher selling salted meats to the army. If it undermines the name of Asgard here or abroad, it is treason."

"Sounds harsh. Even speech? Can somebody say 'fuck this place and the army they rode in with' and get away with it during war?"

"It would be highly unwise to do so when others can hear who do not share the sentiment and who might otherwise report it to the guard."

"Damn. Even sedition was protected speech in our nation on Midgard. Not doing anything other than talking, mind you, or making tacky protest signs, but, you could express whatever you liked as long as it didn't incite people to violence."

"You were lucky, then, for it is not that way in most of the nine realms."

"Wasn't that way on a lot of Earth, either. We just happened to have a country founded on treason and sedition, so it was kind of a given we'd protect the speech part."

"And now it is my turn to need an explanation."

"The country I was from- the United States of America- was formed when a group of citizens decided they didn't want to be colonies of England anymore. They started a war to be their own nation. I mean, that's a really short version of history, but it's history in a nutshell."

"And how long did that nation last?"

"Five hundred years, give or take. Then the government shut down, the debt was huge, and it never really started back up. A couple of big riots later and Canada took over. That's OK, though. Canada was cool."

"Your explanations of history humour me."

She smiled as they reached the throne room, "Well, Heinrik, I'm glad I humour someone. Odin's certainly not as amused."

Odin had already taken a seat; Grace dropped into her chair at the foot of the king's dias, "So, I hear there's treason afoot."

"Yes, there is. It is a grave matter. We will have to curb this before the problem spreads and others begin to do the same."

The guards entered with men in chains, most who were stoic as they were tossed at Grace and Odin's feet, "The traitors, my liege. Your orders?"

She felt Odin's stare boring into the back of her head as she took a moment to think, "Take them to the dungeons. We will try them after I can convene a fair court."

The one young man who was not silent shouted back to her as he was dragged from the room, pulling against his chains, trying to reach the throne, "You are nothing but monsters! You don't know what has happened since you stole our home!" The guards beat him silent and dragged him from the room.

A woman broke through the guards and ran to Grace, throwing herself at her feet, "Oh great and powerful Steward, please, my son is a good boy, he didn't want to hurt anyone. He's an angry and hurting child!"

Guards rushed forward to drag her away, but Grace held up her hand and glared, "This is why I am going to actually have a real trial. Motivations are important in crimes against the throne. If we have done something to cause hurt, we can't expect people to react without emotion and anger. And we have to consider that. I can't guarantee what will happen to your son, ma'am, but his trial will be fair. I know I do things differently, and that makes people uncomfortable, but Thor knew I wouldn't be like him when he put me in charge. I will listen."

The woman looked up at her with tears in her eyes, "What?"

"Your son is the young man who was yelling at us?"

"Yes."

"He's got spirit, I'll give him that. And it sounds like he's not doing this to try to undermine the war, but because he's pissed off. So I'll keep that in mind." Grace leaned down and whispered, "Besides...he reminds me of someone I hold very _very_ dear to my heart. Treason is not something I take lightly, but I also do not dismiss someone's worth as a human being when they committ it." She sat back and the woman rose.

"Thank you, my lady. I will take comfort in knowing he is in your hands." She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, standing tall and turning to leave. She held her head high and looked dignified as she walked out through the guards.

Once the room was empty, Odin spoke, "Our iron fist was how we controlled this kingdom for milennia. I do not know if these new ways will sustain us, but I fear it will not. Treason is far too serious to treat in such a light-handed manner."

"Odin, Loki should be dead how many times over for all the shit he's pulled? You took his motivations to heart- and because he is your son, you had at least a little mercy. And every person deserves the same considerations about their motivations and for us to remember that they are all someone's child." He stared at her hard; she held his gaze and then raised an eyebrow, "Are we done? Because I have a jury to assemble and I need to find someone who can do impartial interviews with each of the accused that can then be presented in court, along with evidence gathering to support or dismantle their stories. And I want to move fast so their families know what is going on."

"And if they are guilty of treason? Then what will you do?"

"Treason is a crime against the realm and the king himself. They will sit in prison until the king returns to mete out their punishment."

"You will not shy from execution?"

"If their crime warrants it, I will recommend it. But I'm not going to take a life lightly. Not knowing my best friend did far worse than smashing a few panes of glass and he's off fighting beside his king."

Odin sighed, "I should have handled this myself."

"Yeah, that wouldn't have gone over very well. You think I'm hard to handle now, just think of what I'd have been like if you'd gone and done that. Don't think I wouldn't have known, either- there are people all around the palace that tell me stuff because we're tight like that."

"I do not understand your ways, nor why my son left you in charge and did not insist that Loki stay home to rule."

"Maybe he figured that some of what I think is worth keeping and he figured it would go over better if I tried it out and people knew if it didn't work, I'd be gone when the king returned. But you're stuck with me. So you just get to deal with it." At that, she rose and walked out, calling back as she reached the door, "We'll talk over dinner once I get the investigation team assembled and figure out how to pull together a jury. Hang on to your britches, this is going to be new, crazy, and maybe we can make it work."

It only took her a few days to find a jury- there were plenty of servants in the palace who seemed to be able to be impartial to the idea of treason, people who also lived in similar areas of the city to the one that the accused traitors were from and would understand their lives. Heinrik, with his attention to detail, proved the perfect interviewer and he took meticulous notes, investigating their claims for a two weeks before the jury convened to hear the case. Grace told Odin to be present, but that it was not his job to decide what the outcome of the case would be.

The four older men knew fully what they were accused of. Their stories were backed up by years of anti-Asgard actions, including riots and the failed attempt years ago to assassinate Thor. The youngest man, however, as well as the other older man, had other motivations. The older, a father of four, had lost his home to the City Greenhouse project and the money he had been given had been swindled away from him by a landlord who promised his family a small upper apartment and instead rented it to four other families and told them they only had the room one day a week at a time. Out of desperation, he had answered a poster on the wall for people angry about the change gathering for a meeting. He had been brought into the inner circle when offered housing and a job for the organisation that would feed his family and keep them comfortable in a way he had never been able to before. He had stayed with the action hoping that his family would be safe after his execution, since the four had threatened to implicate them if he walked away from them.

The younger man had a similarly depressing story. His father had died in the siege laid by Svartalfheim and he and his mother had led a life of struggle since. He had done everything he could from his childhood to support his mother. When they lost their house, they moved in with an aunt, paying her rent, but her house burned to the ground and she lost her life in the fire, leaving son and mother alone, the rest of their money turned to ash. Promises of a home, a job as a messenger for the movement, and security for his mother had tempted him into the rebellion and kept him there as they stoked his anger and led him to believe even the fire that killed his aunt was the fault of the throne.

Grace instructed the jury to meet, discuss the cases, and report back. She retired to the office and did paperwork for an hour until Heinrik informed her they had their recommendations. The jury returned.

"My lady, we have a decision."

"Well let's hear it."

"For the four men who have been part of treasonous plots before, we recommend death."

"And the other two?"

"Imprisonment and hard labour for a length of time determined by the throne."

"I accept your recommendations and will hold action until the return of the king. It is his right to oversee punishment for treason. Thank you, you are dismissed." She turned to the prisoners, "As for you, the dungeons until Thor returns. I will instruct the dungeon master as to your treatment in private." She left the room as the guards dragged all six prisoners out.

She gave Heinrik instructions, "Take care of their families- even the traitors'. They aren't responsible for the things their husbands, sons, and fathers did. Make sure they have the means to survive. And check on the other families we displaced. I don't want to be breeding treason by neglect. Offer work in the greenhouses if they need it. And thsoe who were trying to take care of their families...well, keep that in mind."

"Of course, miss. I will see what I can do."

"Thanks, Heinrik. You're a peach."

That night, the first thing she said to Odin when she met him for dinner was, "I hate this job."


	5. Chapter 5

The army had been gone for three months when Grace sat bolt upright in bed and realised it had been her own voice she had heard screaming.

The nightmare had been vivid. She was standing in a wooded encampment surrounded by tents, only a few lamps lit. The darkness was engulfing. The smell of the night's cooking fires lingered on the air, of wood smoke and salted meat in freshly made stew. Then she heard something- a twig snap- from the woods beyond. She looked closer and noticed shapes. Slow movement. Something creeping. Shadows the size of men. She rushed into the nearest tent and reached for the sleeping soldier, well knowing she could get herself killed. At least they would be warned. She tried to shake him but her hands were immaterial. She ran from the tent and into the next, but the same thing happened. She stepped outside the tents and screamed, the shadows inching closer, but no one noticed. She saw the glint of steel as they came close enough that the lamp in one of the outer tents reflected off their knives. She heard tent flaps slowly lift and heard the first sickening sounds of slaughter. Grunts. Sputters. Gasps. She ran towards the centre of the encampment, knowing that there she would find Loki, Sif, and Thor. She screamed their names as she ran. Then she saw him. Loki stepped from the tent, knives in hand, clearly confused. She tried to tell him what was happening, but he looked past her, squinting in the darkness. A shout from one of the outer tents and the sounds of someone fighting back brought everything clear and she heard Loki bellow that they were being ambushed. Thor sprang from his tent, Mjolner in hand, and called the men to arms. Fierce fighting ensued, with tents ablaze and blood spilling freely. Grace watched in utter horror. She could neither leave nor close her eyes. She lost her family in the fray and frantically sought them out, praying for their survival, understanding that she would not even be able to comfort them in death. When she found Loki, the dance of his blades was mesmerising and primal, each slice precise, most fatal. He did not see one more combatant creeping in behind him. He did not see the long knife raised in his hand. And he did not see when it flew. Grace screamed.

And then she woke up, still screaming.

She was shaking when she rose from the bed and sat down at the writing desk.

"_Loki,_

_Dreams are often prophetic here. I've never experienced something quite as vivid as this one, so I figure I ought to tell you. The army was ambushed while sleeping in a woods. I can't remember any details that would tell you where. So many people died. Be careful, and sleep with one eye open. It was fucking terrifying._

_Gracie._"

She sealed the letter and then thought better of sending it, especially in the middle of the night. She set it on the corner of the desk and went back to bed, hoping that the images in her mind would fade by morning.

When they did not, she sent the letter.


	6. Chapter 6

When the snows melted in the spring and grass began to ever-so-lightly green, Grace received word that the army was returning within the week. The first thing she did was gather the veterans who had been delivering bad news all winter.

"You have all been doing incredibly hard work these past few months. Work I don't know how you kept doing. But I am so grateful you did. The stories you have shared of families thanking you for telling them in person along with your own feelings of doing something worthy have really confirmed that we made the right decision. And while I don't have the newest casualty list for you, I do have something else for you to share- they're coming home. It's over. Sometime this week, the army will be returning." Smiles broke out throughout the room, "I do have one more question for you all, though- how does Asgard deal with PTSD?"

The men looked confused, "What?"

"Post traumatic stress disorder- shell shock, whatever you call it when soldiers come home having seen some pretty horrible stuff and just can't walk back into their normal lives because it haunts them. Nightmares, flashbacks, jumping at sudden sounds and sometimes going on the defensive for things that remind them of the war. All that stuff."

The men shifted uncomfortably in their chairs until one of them spoke, "We do not talk of such things. It is considered such a mar on one's honour to see war as anything but glorious that these things are not discussed."

"So you leave the soliders to deal with it on their own or with their families."

"Not even our families dare speak of it. Our troubles are ours alone to deal with."

"Well that's just shitty. I know, I know, honour and all...but come on, you guys are people, too, and so are these young guys coming back. Are you going to tell me that they should just suck it up and cope, no matter how hard it is on them or what it does to their family to not get help?"

"What do you suggest we do, my lady? We have never had any place to talk of such things before."

"Go out into your communities and ask the soldiers if they need to talk. Get together and support each other. Tell your own stories. My god, how have any of you dealt with things if you had to do it in isolation?"

"Often not well."

"So why not change things for these young men?"

The older men were silent. One nodded and then clapped his hand on the shoulder of the man beside him. He nodded and nudged the person beside him. They all acknowledged one another in this way before rising and leaving one by one.

The last man in the room spoke, "Thank you, miss. We were hesitant when you took the Steward's role. But you have proven a worthy leader. Asgard is better for having you."

Grace was smiling the rest of the day as she did paperwork behind Thor's desk and took tally of the recent harvest from the greenhouses. They were ready to switch production so that the local farmers would not lose sales to the greenhouses and the crop so far had been excellent. Some of the horticulturally talented women had even started experimenting with now-rare seed from Midgard to see if some of the more exotic plants now extinct might thrive. Things were going well and her family was coming home. Grace did not think there was a better feeling in the world than the high she was on.

When she sat down with Odin to dinner, still smiling, he noticed, but instead of asking her why, he said, "Grace, you have a remarkable talent. The older men I once fought with, men who resisted my son taking the throne and who generally approach change with caution, have hailed you as a wise woman, a worthy Steward who reminds them of my wife in her youth. This is a compliment they would not lightly give, and yet you have earned it- even I can see this."

At that moment, Grace realised there was one feeling better than she had felt all day and it came with hearing Odin's praise.

Later that night, as she thought about the day, she realised that this was exactly what Loki had been so desperate to hear for so many years. Things she had accepted, but not entirely understood, about how deeply he had felt betrayed, and how deeply he had craved Odin's attention, and how deeply that rejection had burned, came starkly clear. Looking over at his pillow and seeing the little stuffed penguin chick she had given him so long ago sitting atop it reminded her that he was almost home. Since that was an 'almost', though, and not yet, she cuddled the little penguin close to her chest and fell asleep with her smile creeping back across her lips.

A few days later, the Bifrost opened and people gathered in the streets with armloads of the first flowers of spring woven into garlands to drap over the necks of both soldier and steed. The energy of the bright, crisp morning was contageous and as Grace dressed to make the traditional speech to welcome home soldiers, she was humming songs from her years in Midgard, songs she had held in her heart even in Asgard. She found one of the music cubes, still strange to her after all these years, that she had digitised all her music onto a few years after her arrival. Plopping it into the player, she was grinning as AC/DC began singing just how far it was to the top if you want to rock and roll. She danced around the room as she chose her dress- a tie-dyed backless halter dress in a floating fabric that swished and swirled as she walked. It was one of the first gowns she had asked be made for her in Asgard. The seamstresses had been somewhat horrified that she had asked to dye the fabric after the dress was sewn, but after seeing her in the gown, they had admitted it suited her. It was not long after dying the dress that Grace had started dying her hair bright colours again. Today, to greet the soldiers coming home, her hair was a vibrant purple, deep and almost irridescent. She painted her nails neon green and decided she looked fabulous. Standing in front of the mirror, she could not help but remember how she had started the day she had met Loki, staring into another mirror, thinking she was lumpy and unattractive, her body so imperfect compared to the screaming billboards that dominated the city below, no matter how many times Tony had told her that, as her brother, he was an authority on just how fabulously perfect she was in every rockstar way.

She was practically giddy as she bounded down the hallway to the balcony where Odin waited for her with a small group of attendents, "Any sight of them yet?"

"The Bifrost has delivered them to the city. They are making the traditional procession. If I am not mistaken, they should be coming around the corner into sight very shortly. You are prepared for the speech?"

"Yeah. It's not a long one. I can do this like a rockstar."

"Indeed, I have no doubt you can."

She peered past him down the road, "Holy shit, here they come!" She clapped excitedly and laughed, close to tears of joy, "Oh god, just look at everybody covered in flowers...so many flowers!" Odin simply smiled. When she had started her stewardship, he would have chastised her for such a show of emotion, but she had shown her humanity to the people of Asgard and they had responded to her with enthusiasm.

When the army came through the gates and Grace could finally see their faces clearly, she noticed so much weariness behind the smiles. The soldiers were exhausted, many were maimed, bandaged, and some carried their fellows who were too greviously injured to ride alone.

Thor raised Mjolner and the assembled crowd fell silent, "Steward! How fares dear Asgard?"

"She shines like a beacon on the harbour, welcoming home her weary sons. And how fare the sons of Asgard?"

"We come as victors, the battles hard fought. But not without sorrow for those we could not bring home with us."

"As is the nature of war. They sing victorious in the halls of our fallen warriors." Grace hated the speech, the glorification of war and death, but she had finished it with ease. She then added something of her own, "And we at home have kept the home fires burning while our hearts were yearning and you dreamt of home. Welcome back."

Thor moved the army forward. Behind him, Sif was beaming. Loki rode beside her and, while smiling, appeared to be struggling with being happy. Grace maintained her post anxiously, not only because she wanted to greet everyone with hugs, but because the look on her best friend's face troubled her. Her duty, however, said she had to stay at her post until the entire army had passed- she was a symbol of the realm itself welcoming home its children.

When she could finally leave, Odin stopped her as she was ready to run down the halls, "You saw it too."

"The look on his face? God yes."

"Be careful. You do not know what he has seen or done."

"I know. Remember, though- I've gotten through to him when none of you could."

He nodded and let her go.

Grace entered the armory and found the soldiers sorting equipment and getting ready to go home, their spirits high as their families waited outside the gates with flowers to replace the ones that were strewn around the floor, draped on the horses, and caught on armor and weaponry. She worked her way around the room looking for Loki but did not find him.

She found Sif and Thor, "Hi!"

Thor grabbed her in a huge hug and spun her around, "Grace! Oh how we have missed you! It is so good to be home!"

He kissed her cheek and as he set her down, Sif grabbed her, "Dear Sister, I have missed your company so dearly...I had forgotten how much I need the companionship of a witty woman like yourself."

"Nothing like being around a bunch of guys is there?"

"No, there is not. It truly is an experience to be one of the men."

"Speaking of..."

Sif and Thor exchanged a glance before Sif answered, speaking low, "You received the news that Hogun fell?"

"Yes. I am so sorry, you guys."

Sif placed a hand on Grace's shoulder, "All warriors know they might some day fall, and most of us expect to meet our end in battle, but thank you. Loki was close to him when he fell and blames himself. He fights something within him and it has changed him." She watched Grace's face fall, "He will still be glad to see you. While we could not get him to say much, he did tell Thor that he desperately needed to seek refuge with you."

"But he's run off."

"Yes. He needs you to find him- in many ways. I believe it is both a separation from the reminders of what happened and a challenge to see if you still will look for him."

"Yeah, probably. He did that hide and seek thing with Thor for years."

"Go find him. He is waiting."

Grace waved to Thor, "I know we've got a feast tonight, but once all the welcome-home-partying is done, we're going to sit down to a nice family dinner with some Apples to Apples and we're all going to relax."

Thor grinned and called after her, "I will look forward to it with great anticipation!"

As she left the noise of the armory behind her, Grace tried to think of where Loki could be. The simplest answer was, of course, in their quarters, so she looked there first. No Loki. She sat down on the bed and tried to think. The gardens were too open; when Loki hid, he sought sheltered spaces and places that brought him comfort. Usually that meant he met her in their quarters, his sanctuary, and together they would cuddle by the corner bookshelves on the huge pillows heaped between them. But with whatever was bothering him, Grace thought he might also seek out the comfort of darkness to avoid the harshness of the bright morning light. Then it hit her- there were sections of the library that would serve the same purpose- the comfort of books, quiet, a confined space between the stacks, and plenty of darkness back in the least trafficked areas.

She arrived in the library and closed the door behind her, noticing that only one of the curtains on one of the windows was drawn back, the lamps unlit. The room was generally dim except for the sliver of light allowed in by that single curtain. She began to wander, trying to listen for any sounds that might be him. She heard nothing and changed tactic, instead trying to figure out what section of books he would have sought. She looked back to the restricted section, but the gates were still locked. She leaned on the stacks and stared at the ceiling, wracking her brain for any ideas. Nothing came. She wished that if he wanted to be comforted by her, he would just come out and make this easier. Again, the thought clicked with something else in her memory- she had her own section of the library, tucked back in one of the darker recesses, one of the only spaces with shelf space when she had arrived with Tony's folios and the thousand or so books left behind in Stark Tower when Steve had died.

She sighed, it would make some sort of sense for him to seek her out in memory before trying to find her in person. When she came to the section, she peered down the aisle, trying to see if he was even there and, if he was, what he was doing. She saw a shadow shift and realised he was sitting on the floor, one knee tucked to his chest. She approached slowly, hoping that her caution was an overreaction. When she reached him, she sat down beside him and leaned against him. He formed a little blue flame in his hand and set it on the floor in front of her. The pale light illuminated very little, but Grace knew that was intentional from the glittering tear streaks on his cheeks. He put an arm around her shoulders and curled against her.

"Gracie... I've missed you."

"Me too, honey."

"So much happened... And so much horrific."

"Just tell me when I can do something to help."

"How did Asgard fare in our absence?"

"Damn fine. We built greenhouses and grew stuff- Thor will be so stoked, we got a coffee bean to sprout! Everybody came together to help. And we made some changes with the help of the old soldiers so families found out in person when people died. I think they're even going to form a support system for you folks coming home. They were great to work with. Oh, and I had to try people for treason. That sucked, but I held a real trial and tried to be fair. Odin just about blew a gasket about that."

"Treason?"

"Yeah. Some guys decided smashing City Greenhouse would be a great idea. Turned out four of them had been a part of the plot to assassinate Thor years ago. Two of them were desperate poor people roped in with promises of security."

"And how were you advised?"

"Not to shy from execution."

"Ah...I see."

"My jury recommended execution for the four and hard labour for the other two. I had Heinrik take care of their families. Punishment for treason, though, is a right reserved for the king."

"So they wait?"

"Yeah. They wait."

"Did Father...?"

She took his hand and laced her fingers through his, "Odin was...well, Odin. I reminded him in no uncertain terms that if all tratiors were summarily executed, you'd be dead many times over. He shut up when I told him Thor left me in charge, he had to just suck up and deal with it."

They sat in silence for a long while before Grace spoke again, "I don't ever want to miss you like that again. Waiting at home, wondering if you were dead or alive..."

"I know. I do not ever wish to be away from home for so long, either. But this was a short war, compared to some of those of our history."

"Well let's just try to avoid any length war, OK?"

"Of course."

Again, they let the silence of the library take over the conversation. Then Loki rose, offering her a hand. She accepted, noticing deep scars across his palm, wondering what other marks of brutality she would discover in the coming days. She took his hand gently and together they walked to the front of the library.

He stopped and turned to her, "The ambush was real. But your dream was not prophetic. Based on the date you put on your letter, you dreamed it as it was happening."

She stared, horrified, "Oh my fucking god..."

"I dreamt you were outside my tent that night. That you stood there, screaming. And because it was such a vivid dream, I had to step out to look. And that is when I saw we were being ambushed."

"You came out of the tent armed and you called out the ambush. I lost you in the fray, but when I found you again, you were fighting...and my god, it was the most brutal dance I have ever seen. But then someone threw a knife at your back..."

"That happened as well. It... Did Sif tell you who we lost?"

"Yes."

"He managed to knock the knife out of the air and we fought back to back. I was losing. He was not. He turned to help as I was overwhelmed, and that was when..." He closed his eyes and took a few very slow, deep breaths. She touched his cheek and then kissed it.

"You don't have to say anything."

"There is a victory feast tonight I do not wish to attend. I hold no victory from this."

"You could fake sick."

"No, I do not think this is practical."

"You could really be sick. There's nothing more convincing than throwing up to get you out of things, especially eating."

"I am not sure I want to try this method, Gracie."

"Can you just skip it?"

"No, I will be expected to attend. Strongly expected. Father would not take kindly us not."

"So let's just go comfy."

"No, when one celebrates a war victory, one is supposed to attend in the battle-marred armor, a sign that it once again protected the wearer and cheated death."

"That's kind of fucked up. So can we make this any better?"

"No."

Grace took his hand and led him slowly from the library, "Then I guess I will just have to snuggle up to you and cuddle you until you can cope- before, during, after, forever. I am Grace Stark, supercuddler."

He finally smiled just a little, "Gracie, my love, how did I ever get by without you?"

"You tried to destroy Jotunheim, attempted to lay seige to New York City, and briefly took over Asgard before being handed over to Thanos for a decade...you didn't do so well."

"True, true. My youth was much better spent, but my early adult years were rather foollishly wasted."

"Most of us binge drink and do regrettable things at Myrtle Beach in our college years."

"Asgard has no colleges as your Midgard did, nor do we have Myrtle Beach, so we must find other regrettable decisions to make."

"Well let's go make a great decision and take a nap. In a real bed. With fluffy pillows."

And that is exactly what they did.


End file.
